Several Ways To Die Trying
by emerald-soco
Summary: Marissa keeps trying to get her life back on track and it just keeps ending. Oneshot five ways Marissa Cooper never died


Oh, look! Another OC one-shot! I swear, I'm not even a huge fan of this show, so I don't know why I'm a slave for its fanfic. It's a problem. I'm seeking help. In the meantime, enjoy this little piece. It should be pretty self-explanatory, but just in case, it's five ways Marissa Cooper never died, starting with the S3 finale and moving backwards through the series. Don't forget to review!

**Several Ways To Die Trying**

_1. Sometimes planes they smash up in the sky_

There's no warning.

At least, none that she takes seriously. The _Fasten Seatbelt_ sign blinks to life, the letters red and glaring like a monster's eyes from a closet, and the plane jumps once, twice in the air. Next to her, a businessman snaps his newspaper open so that the pages rustle against her bare arm, making her shiver.

But those are things Marissa Cooper takes no notice of. She's busy remembering the last kiss she shared with her boyfriend, how his hands dug into her waist and lifted her just a little bit off the ground. Only Ryan could make her feel like she was flying before she'd even boarded the plane.

The clouds are eye-level through the small window and Marissa smiles as she peers out at them. Things are finally looking up. She's a high school graduate now and there is a career waiting for her at the other end of the sky. She's on her way to a new life.

"I've never been to Greece before," she's telling the woman beside her, too excited to contain herself, when the plane bucks again. Her grip tightens, knuckles white, on the armrest and her companion's hand clamps down on hers. "I've never …"

Her words turn into a scream as the plane rolls and nosedives. Around her, chaos erupts: the engine begins to whir at a deafening volume, the wing groans hauntingly as it bends the wrong way and snaps off.

Marissa's last thought as they begin their downward spiral is, _I didn't get a chance –_

And even she doesn't know exactly what she regrets as the plane and her body break apart.

_2. Have another drink and drive yourself home_

It starts with a fight with Summer, or maybe Ryan. Marissa's not sure of anything anymore, hasn't been in a long time.

Volchuk, at least, is easy to deal with. He eases her troubles with a trip to the bar and body shots. He says things like _You don't need them_ and _Who are they to tell you how to live your life_ and it's then that she laughs – bitterly, as if she's forgotten a chaser after a particularly strong drink – and pushes him off her.

"This isn't living," she tells him, the declaration slurred with lack of sleep and an abundance of alcohol. "And I don't need you, either."

Volchuk's eyes glitter and she doesn't see any concern or disappointment. For the first time, it's not such a relief. "Guess you don't need a ride home, then."

"I don't," she retorts, too angry or drunk or some combination of both to think straight. "I don't need you or anyone else. It's _my_ life."

"Whatever," he dismisses. She can tell he thinks she'll be back in two nights, tops, and she's never wanted to prove anyone wrong so badly before as she storms out.

She doesn't know where she's going, and she hasn't been sure of that in a long time either. But she thinks the route she finds herself taking is a shortcut to the Cohens and it's not like she has anywhere better to be.

Headlights suddenly cut into her vision, temporarily blinding her, and she realizes she's swerved to the wrong side of the road. Marissa turns the wheel hard to avoid the oncoming car and trades the bad for the worse, smashing into a telephone pole like it's her destiny.

Lucky for her, she's too drunk to feel most of the pain, but for once, she knows exactly what's happening to her life: it's ending.

_3. Love is like falling and falling is like this_

The thing about Johnny is, he's sweet.

Marissa doesn't think she's ever known anyone so unpretentiously, genuinely sweet that it makes her teeth _and_ her heart hurt. Summer is kind and Seth is funny and Ryan is all kinds of loyal, but no one in her life has the innocence that shines from Johnny's deep brown eyes.

That's what draws her to him. He is uncomplicated and his front tooth has a bit of a chip in it and if his biggest problem in life is an unfaithful girlfriend, then she wants to hold his hand and ward off the bad stuff for the rest of his life.

Johnny doesn't know anything about riches turning to rags and young love ending in a bloody mess. He's never held the weight of a gun in his hands, never had to pull the trigger. He doesn't understand that life's not always fair.

She climbs up the cliffs after him because she thinks, maybe, if things had been different, if she'd met him first, she could have loved him. And, of course, the nagging sense of guilt. She doesn't want to be the one who makes him see the world for what it really is.

"Please," he says, and the innocence is gone, replaced by desperation.

Her hand stretches out to him, the best olive branch she can think of. "Please," she echoes, and it's funny that they're both begging for such different things. "Johnny, come down."

Their fingers brush and lock together at the same instant his footing slips. She'll never know if he planned it, but she doesn't really want to. She closes her eyes as her body is pulled over the edge, preferring to remember his eyes round and trusting instead of wide and terrified.

She has just enough time to think it would have been easier if she could have loved him before they hit the ground.

4. _I'll weigh you down, I'll watch you choke_

She knew she shouldn't have said anything to Ryan.

Trey would have left town eventually. She should've been smarter, waited him out, instead of confessing what he'd almost done in a rush of tumbled words and darting eyes. _I fought him off, but he was – he was trying to – Ryan, I'm sorry._

Ryan wasn't very good with words and she supposed he figured there was nothing he could say to make up for the sins of his brother. But fists were a good second choice, so he'd driven straight to the hotel, cursing under his breath the whole way, and thrown the first punch.

Unfortunately for all of them, Trey was the one to teach Ryan everything he knew, which made it easy for him to gain the upper hand. Marissa watches, horrified, as Ryan fell back, his head crashing into the wall, his eyes fluttering closed.

"Trey, please, you're killing him, stop it!" she screams, beating at his back, clawing at any exposed skin she can sink her nails into. Both boys' blood mix together on her small hands. "Stop it, get off!"

He turns on her, catching her throat in a vise-like grip, his fingers wide enough to span her neck and squeeze with hardly any effort. "You told him," he accuses, as spots begin to appear in her vision. "He's my brother! You promised not to tell."

"I – I love him," she stutters out, her breathing shallow, voice raspy. "I couldn't lie to him, not for you."

Trey's eyes harden and his grip tightens and she's almost grateful she won't have to cover up these bruises. Marissa takes a final, shuddering breath as her eyes roll to the back of her head, making Trey Atwood's face the last thing she'll ever see.

_5. Swallow, choke, and die_

This is not how her vacation was supposed to go.

She and Summer have looked forward to their trip to Mexico all year long. They started bathing suit shopping last February, dieted from April to July, started packing in early August. It's what their whole summer has been leading up to. And on the countless occasions Marissa had imagined their trip, it had never included any of the following:

Being stuck in a backseat with Ryan and the memory of him and that _woman _in the poolhouse. A static-y phone call to her dad ending with his confession of divorce. And last but – okay, well, least – Luke and Holly. Luke and Sarah. Luke and any-and-all girls who aren't her because, apparently, nobody in Newport really needs Marissa Cooper in their life.

And, yes, she knows that all of these things are relatively small problems. Cheating boys and broken hearts and troubled homes – it happens all the time. But to happen all at once, piled one atop the other like the world's heaviest bricks, she's suddenly absolutely convinced that she's going to die alone.

The pills peek out at her from Summer's purse like long-lost friends and Marissa doesn't let herself think about what she's doing as she pockets them and leaves the hotel. If she's going to live a long, miserable life with only cats for companions, she'd rather just skip the in-between part. Or at least go through it in a dull haze.

It's not like she actually intends to overdose, because she really doesn't. She just wants to get some rest and forget about all the stupid things currently going wrong in her life. But the vodka makes her lose count of the pills and her eyes close on their own accord and just before she passes out, she hears Summer's familiar, "Oh my God!" and feels herself being lifted into Ryan's capable arms.

So it turns out okay, in the end, because Marissa Cooper doesn't die alone. But she does die.


End file.
